


Oh, Can't You See

by flamehairedwritings



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Sexual References, Swearing, Tiny Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 15:54:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13103550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flamehairedwritings/pseuds/flamehairedwritings
Summary: Welcome to 12 Days of Hopper, presented by (the wonder that is) @atari-writes and myself! We’ll be alternating posting a story on Tumblr every day up until the 25th December to do with Christmas and all that comes with it.Title taken from the song ‘Every Breath You Take’ by The Police.Summary: Snow Ball ‘84. You never used to like dances.





	Oh, Can't You See

* * *

 

 

**_Do we deserve a second chance?  
How did we fall into this circumstance?_ **

 

_Holy shit, this is a brilliant song._

_  
_ You’ve agreed to chaperone the Snow Ball and are meant to be keeping an eye on everyone but how can you when the music is this good? You can’t remember your school dances being this good. And, anyway, the kids don’t want you staring at them as they have a quick first kiss or dance with the person they like for the first time.

  
You can’t dance to save your life, but that doesn’t matter; you have a few moves you’ve seen other people do in bars and movies that you’ve held on to and utilise to just about every song and, hey, it hasn’t done you too terribly. Having stationed yourself on the outskirts of the dance, against one of the walls, you can dance without being the one who’s stared at… Except someone is.

  
As you scan the room, doing just a quick check of the kids in your area before the chorus kicks in, you suddenly lock eyes with Jim Hopper. 

  
And he’s looking at you in the strangest way. You beam at him, but he just continues to look at you, and an odd feeling starts to make your stomach twist. Beginning to lower your arms, your hips slow their movement. Suddenly you hear a group of kids giggling.

  
_Oh, God… Are they laughing at me?_

 _  
_ You swallow lightly, starting to feel self-conscious unease creep up your spine. Another, quieter burst of giggles erupts from somewhere as you drop your arms in front of you, playing with your hands. 

  
Looking up again, you find Hopper still staring at you. 

  
_Jesus…_

 _  
_ Feigning a smile as your cheeks flush, you bow your head slightly as you quickly move towards the drinks table. Maintaining your smile, you raise your eyebrows at Nancy Wheeler, who smiles in return and offers you a cup.

  
“Hey.”

  
“Hey, thanks, Nancy,” you murmur before taking a long sip.

  
“Oh, shoot…” you then hear her mutter. Glancing up as you lower the cup, holding it against your chest, you watch her press her lips together and pull the table cloth up, peering under it.

  
“What’s up?”

  
“I’m running out of cups.” Dropping the cloth, she pulls a slight face as her gaze meets yours. “You don’t mind looking after the table while I run and grab some, do you?" 

  
Opening your mouth to answer, you then hear badly muffled laughter as a group of girls pass you, your shoulders hunching slightly at the sound as your cheeks flush again. 

  
"Don’t worry about it, Nancy, I’ll grab you some. I need to get some, uhm, napkins anyway so I’ll get you some.”

  
“Oh, are you sure?" 

  
"Yeah, absolutely.” You force a smile, nodding perhaps a little too eagerly. 

  
_I’m an adult. Why do middle schoolers make me feel like a fucking kid again?_

  
“Great, is it okay if you get me two packets? Just in case?" 

  
"Yeah, sure. I’ll be right back.” Placing your cup down, you swiftly turn and stride towards the doors, keeping your eyes down. 

  
Passing through the door as the music changes, you slow down a little once in the corridor and run a hand over your hair, blowing out a quiet breath. The music is muffled once the doors close and you welcome the quiet of the empty corridor, heading down it to the classroom where earlier that day you had helped to unpack cups, plates, decorations, napkins and various other things that were apparently required for a middle school dance.

  
You can still feel the heat on your cheeks from your blush and shake your head at yourself as you sigh quietly.

  
_What is it about a group of giggling and whispering kids that can reduce someone to **feeling**  like a damn kid again? Weren’t you meant to grow out of this shit? Feel superior? Brush it off? … Am I really that bad at dancing?_

  
You hate the anxious, unsettled feeling that now hangs over you. You know you’re going to be thinking about it for the rest of the night, maybe even until the next time you want to dance, and beyond.

  
_Not long left now, then you can go home…_

  
Entering the classroom, the door swinging shut quietly behind you, you switch the lights on, squinting a little as they flicker for a few moments before settling, dimly illuminating the room. Moving around the tables towards the stacked boxes, you tap your finger tips against them as you scan the pile, searching for any labelled ‘CUPS’. 

  
“Why did you stop dancing?”

  
You gasp loudly and spin around, gripping one of the boxes with one hand, the other flying up to your chest at the low tone. Your eyes wide, you stare at Jim Hopper as your heart races.

  
“Jesus  _Christ_ , Hopper. You nearly gave me a fucking heart attack, you can’t-  _don’t_  go sneaking up on people like that.” Dropping your arms to your sides, you exhale a long breath as you raise your eyebrows.

  
He doesn’t move from his position by the door, leaning back against it with his hands in his pockets, just tilts his head to the side and repeats, “Why did you stop dancing?”

  
Your eyes narrow a little as you shake your head slightly. “I just… I wanted to get a drink, I was thirsty.” It’s an easy lie, and you try and help it further by looking away from him and resuming your searching through the boxes, turning your back.

  
“Sweetheart.”

  
Pressing your lips together, you force yourself to focus on your task, keeping your back to him. You hear him move closer, and then he’s stood behind you, his hand gently settling on your bicep.

  
“Baby,” he murmurs, his thumb beginning to lightly stroke your skin. “You know I know when you’re lying.”

  
Closing your eyes for a few moments, you then shrug, raising a hand slightly. “I just… I just, I didn’t want to dance anymore, all right?" 

  
His hands settle on your hips, and he turns you to face him. Staring at his chest, heat once more reddens your cheeks as you fold your arms across your chest. Then, one of his hands gently lifts your chin and you’re forced to meet his gaze.

  
"What happened?" 

  
Your jaw clenches as you run your tongue over your teeth, silent for a few moments.

  
"I just… I heard some kids laughing at me and whispering, and you were looking at me weirdly…” you mumble, your eyes dropping to his chest again. You feel so stupid saying it out loud, it  _sounds_  so stupid to your ears, but you just can’t help that your mind leaps to the conclusions that it does.

  
“Some kids were laughing and I was looking at you weirdly?” he repeats quietly, the pad of his thumb brushing over your chin.

  
“Yeah,” you mutter, now just feeling even more stupid and embarrassed. 

   
“Okay. And the kids were definitely laughing at you?”

  
You open your mouth, then close it a couple of moments after. “… Well, maybe, yeah. It sounded like it was directed at me, and I’ve never been a great dancer so it just…” You trail off as you shrug again, still not looking at him.

  
“Do you definitely know they were laughing at you, though?”

  
“… No,” you mumble after another short period of silence.

  
“So, they could’ve just been bein’ kids and laughing about kid stuff? And whispering about the other kids around them, like kids do at dances? Judging each other and generally ignoring the adults?" 

  
”… Maybe.“

  
Your lips purse slightly as you silently wish for the ground to swallow you up. 

  
"Maybe. Good, now that we’ve worked out that puzzle, let’s talk about the next part… I was looking at you weirdly?”

  
You close your eyes as you start to shake your head. “Hopper, please, Nancy is waiting and I feel stupid enou-”

  
“I loved watching you dance.”

  
You pause, your mouth open as your eyes flick up to meet his. 

  
“I’ve never seen you dance like that before, just lettin’ loose and enjoying yourself. The way your body moved…” His hands slide up your waist to your back, and he gently draws you closer to him. Unfolding your arms, you settle your hands on his chest as he lowers his head, his lips brushing against your cheek.

  
“I couldn’t take my eyes off of you, baby,” he murmurs into your ear, causing you to graze your teeth over your lower lip. 

  
“… Really?”

  
“Really.” Turning his head, he presses a soft kiss to your jaw as his arms wrap around your waist, holding you against him.

  
“… Well, now I just feel like a God damn idiot,” you mutter, and the corners of your mouth lift a little as he laughs, the sound rumbling in his chest as you rest your head against him. 

  
“That’s how you’re meant to feel at a school dance, if I recall correctly, so good for you." 

  
"Now that’s true. Wait, you can’t have felt that way, I bet you had all the girls around you, just  _dying_  to be asked to dance by Jim Hopper.”

  
He releases another laugh, resting his cheek against the top of your head. “Nah, I just stood there too afraid to even look at a girl, then as I got older I thought I was hot shit and too cool for a school dance. Can’t count the amount of times I was caught outside, smokin’ and drinkin’." 

  
"Nobody told me I’m with such a rebel.”

  
You feel him smile against your hair. “And what about you? I bet you had to allocate time to each love-sick kid just so no one would complain." 

  
You snort. "Hardly. I went every year but no one asked me to dance." 

  
"Wait, hold on a second…” Lifting his head, he pulls back a little to stare at you. “No one asked you to dance? What kind of weirdos did you go to school with?”

    
You press your lips together in an unsuccessful attempt to stop a smile. “They saw me dancing, is what happened." 

  
"Now what did I say…” His hands glide down to your lower back as he arches an eyebrow, his voice lowering. “… About your dancing?” Pulling you flush against him, your eyes widen a fraction as your lips part.

  
Keeping his hands at your lower back, he begins to move his hips, your own swaying along with them. 

  
“What did I say?” he murmurs again, his lips almost touching yours.

  
“… That you liked it,” you breathe, your eyes darting from his to his mouth.

  
“Loved it,” he corrects you, sliding one of his hands around to rest on your hip.

    
You can faintly hear the music echoing down from the hall, both your bodies starting to move to the gentle beat of it. Moving your hands up to the back of his neck, you hold his gaze as he continues.

  
“… "The way your hips moved… Circling and swaying like this… You looked so content and happy… I didn’t know whether I wanted to fuck you or hold you.”

  
A grin spreads across your features as you laugh, shaking your head. “Ah, hence the strange look on your face." 

  
"Yeah, that’s what me making a decision looks like.”

  
“Oh, so you made a decision?” Your lips twitch as one corner of your mouth lifts higher than the other.

  
“I did,” he murmurs, a lazy smirk tugging at his own lips as he lifts his hand from your hip and cups your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lower lip. 

  
“And, Chief Hopper?”

  
“How much time do you think we have before Nancy comes looking for you and those cups?”


End file.
